


Stay With Me Tonight

by LadyTineapple



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:28:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyTineapple/pseuds/LadyTineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock comes back, just in time for Christmas, John should be the happiest man alive, having a wonderful wife, as well his best friend back. Yet, he can't quite enjoy it as much as he would like to and does not quite know how to talk about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay With Me Tonight

I take a sip of my coffee, while you let out an annoyed sigh. You hate how slow I am and how human. I know you do, but what can I do about it? You don’t complain though. You tolerate it. You tolerate me being human, needing breaks and I am very thankful for that. I used to think you were selfish. Long time ago, before you fell. I used to think you would leave me behind when I get annoying. Actually, I was fully convinced after you came back. Stupid of me, but I was. I thought, for a while, you had only put me through all that because you were so bloody selfish. I just could not comprehend that it was to protect me. I’m sorry I wronged you.

It’s getting colder. You wrap your coat tighter around you – I told you to get a coffee to warm yourself, but you insisted that you were warm enough. Well, freeze then, if that is what you want. I am not your mother.

God, how I have missed being with you. I still miss it. We don’t spend enough time together anymore, I know that. I also know that it is my fault, but I can’t really change it. Not now. It will probably change soon. I don’t know how I am supposed to feel about that. I am so looking forward to spending more time with you again, maybe living with you again, but I think I should not be happy about it.

I haven’t told you yet, what is going to happen. I wonder if you know. Usually you do. You always know everything that is going on, but not when it comes to Mary. You hardly even notice her. You tolerate her, but that is all, isn’t it? You tolerate Mary as a part of my human needs. 

“Want to come over for Christmas-dinner?” I ask, trying to make it sound casual. It’s a bit of short-notice, but you don’t care, do you? It wouldn't make a difference to you. Mary would not mind it either and I would like to have you there. I can’t tell you what is happening, not yet. If you don’t know yet, that would probably be the easiest way of letting you know. I will just show you what is going on. I will place it right in front of you. You can’t overlook it then. 

You frown at me as if I had lost it.

“You need to eat,” I insist. I have to make sure you do and I would give anything to spend a few more minutes with you, whether it is with you alone or someone else joining us. What does it matter? I know you want to spend more time with me as well.

“You invited her entire family.” You roll your eyes, as if I had forgotten how we are going to celebrate. “I don’t do such things, John. Too many people.”

Yes, that is true. You don’t. You don’t feel comfortable around so many people, do you? I should have expected that answer. Still it was worth a try.

“Maybe I will come over to you, then,” I say before I have even thought about it and take another sip of coffee. That is not such a bad idea, after all. I need to get out. I need to get away from Mary and her family.

It’s selfish of me, I know. Of us two, Sherlock, you and me, I am the selfish one, not you. I need to get away though. She does not want me to go, I know she doesn’t, even though she does not say anything. She lets me go where I please and when I please without saying anything and that makes it all so much harder. If only once she would beg me to stay or shout at me – anything, it would be easier. You two are so selfless that it constantly hurts me. Why do I always pick people like that?

You frown at me. Your eyes scan me quickly, I know that look. You’re reading me. You finally noticed something is wrong. You wonder why I don’t want to spend Christmas with my wive. Can you find out? Do you know why? I don’t want to say it, Sherlock, please don't make me.

Your eyes widen momentarily and you tilt your head back, your lips parting a bit. You nod soberly and turn away again.

You got it wrong. I know you did, even though I don’t have your intellect. This is not the face you would make if you had gotten it right. You think we are having troubles, don’t you? You think we are going to get divorced. Knowing you and judging by the face you make, you probably think it’s your fault. You think that you dragging me out to crime scenes at any hour of the day is destroying my marriage.

It’s not, surprisingly enough. Mary is completely fine with me running off to risk my life with my best friend like we completely lost it. She doesn’t mind at all.

No, that is not what is going on.

Mary is dying, Sherlock. She is sick and slowly fading away. There is nothing anyone could do. I should be with her. I should hold her hand and show her how much I love her, during her past few days, but I cannot. I can’t stand looking at her like that. I can’t stand the thought of losing her.

I can’t stand her family giving me those sad looks, or those implying they would like to murder me, because they think I should have noticed earlier since I’m a doctor. They are probably right. I should have, but I didn’t and there is only so much I can do now and I don’t even do that. I run away from it all and hide behind my best friend. At least, I have you to catch me this time. When you died, I was all alone. I had Ms Hudson, but I felt alone. It was not the same. Somehow, I believe, you would understand how I feel, once you find out. You would be there for me, wouldn’t you? Don’t make me go through all that alone again. Once has been enough already.

You should know what is going on. I should be honest with you. You deserve it. I just can’t say it. I can’t talk about it and I don’t want to. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want it to be real. Why can’t you read it, Sherlock? Why did you have to know about every stupid date and crush I had, sometimes even before I knew about it, but can’t read this, when it’s so important?

“If you want a fancy dinner–” you say. I think you’re trying to make a joke, but you are really not good at them. You always sound too serious. You always sound the same.

“I don’t care,” I say before you can finish the sentence. I really don’t. I just want to get out and be with you instead. Forget what is happening, just for a while. I don’t even mind forgetting that it’s Christmas. I have not really celebrated it the past few years, after you died, so I don’t need to celebrate it this year either. Mary’s family insisted, because it would be her last, but neither of us was too ecstatic, unless she pretended not to care, to do me a favour. I hope she didn’t. I hope she enjoys this Christmas, surrounded by everyone who loves her – except me of course. Maybe I don’t love her enough. “I think simple is good.”

You nod, looking a bit worried. “Chinese?” you ask with a raised brow.

I laugh. I shouldn’t, but I do. “Chinese is good.” It reminds me of our first case. Chinese is perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, my Beta was Emma aka bitchinblackframedglasses and partly Tamara aka slytherindoctorsat221b.


End file.
